It's no use crying over spilt milk... But maybe coffee

On Sunday, I spilled coffee all over myself. And I don't even know how or when I did it. That's the joy of seizures- of my kind of seizures, you lose track of time and space out for a minute and have no idea what the hell just happened. So on Sunday, I was the first one awake, I made the coffee like I was always do and I had myself a cup. I was sitting on my favorite chair, looking out the window, watching the rain- I think, I honestly don't remember what I was doing, but I think I was watching whatever was happening outside, I may have been watching my dogs play on the carpet, who knows? And then all of a sudden, I was leaving the bathroom. And I saw my coffee mug sitting on the counter, empty, and I thought "Wow, that's weird, I finished it already?" and so I filled it up again. And I sat back down on my favorite chair and that's when I noticed my shirt was wet. Confused, I thought for a minute I got my shirt wet in the bathroom, then I panicked thinking it dipped into the toilet since the shirt is long and I was tired. Then I started to add everything together... Wet shirt, empty coffee cup, no idea how coffee cup was really empty, or how I ended up walking back from the bathroom- I mean, had I actually USED the restroom, or was I just walking back from that area? Damn. 
And I had just had two on Friday. Cool. 
I looked around. Coffee all over the chair, all over the carpet, and after a better investigation, all over me. I walked to the kitchen. I - NO WAIT- Seizure Katie, had also started to pack a school lunch for my son, which is just so dumb because A) he was with his dad, and B) It was Sunday. So Seizure Katie was up to all sorts of shenanigans, spilling coffee all over the place, packing lunches for no reason, just keeping me on my toes. 
My husband was still asleep. I was just sitting here trying to figure out if I wanted to laugh or cry. I finally decided that the best option was to have more coffee, wait until my husband was awake to change my clothes and to hold it all in. When he woke up, he told me I was ridiculous for sitting there in wet pajamas but he had been sick all week and was finally getting sleep so I didn't want to disturb him. I focused my energy on cleaning the chair and the carpet instead. 
On Monday, I had a million errands I wanted to run but couldn't because I can't drive. And several appointments I needed to make but I can't actually make them because I have to make sure they work around other peoples schedules because they are the ones that drive me places otherwise I have to Uber and Ubering to doctor appointments is weird- trust me, I've done it. A lot.
And that's when it happened. That's when I started to cry and get angry because I spilled my coffee. Isn't it funny and SO STUPID how that all works? The whole "Straw that broke the camels back" thing? 
I meet with the neurosurgeon soon and I'm getting a million more tests and maybe I'm on my way to having this crap behind me.  January 27th, we find out what he has to say and on February 6th I go in for the Neuropsych exam and functional MRI- which is just my favorite (I bet you can feel my eyes rolling through your screen) and then hopefully we will know if I am a candidate for RNS procedure or not. 
Once upon time, I was an independent woman who drove herself to the grocery store, and took her kids to school, and drove herself to WORK... and someday that will be me again... As soon as I figure out how to drink coffee without spilling it all over myself.